


A Different Side of Darkness

by Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gangs, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-08-13
Updated: 2008-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener/pseuds/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dark world, a teen discovers an even darker power... And it wears a halo?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters will be going by their Japanese names. A few keep their English dub ones simply because they didn’t have a surname (or a name at all) in Japanese.
> 
> Disclaimer: Seeing as this isn’t being done in any sort of official form, I’m going to guess Yugi-Oh isn’t mine.  
> 

Eight years is a long time to work on a puzzle.

Of course, it might not have taken so long if he didn’t have to keep hiding it. Damn thing just had to be made out of gold. To be fair, he probably shouldn’t have stolen it either.  
He should have sold it when he had the chance since that was his original intention. But...it pulled him. And the inscriptions on the box made him curious.

‘It’s something that you see, but have never seen.’  
‘The one who solves me shall gain the powers and knowledge of darkness.’

He snorts at the second one. “Powers of darkness. I can get that with enough money and the right connections.” But still he works on the puzzle when he could be making said money or connections.

It pulls him.  
And so he follows.

~*~*~*~  
A Different Side of Darkness  
Part 1  
~*~*~*~

“Dammit. I always get stuck here.”  
“Hurrah, here’s your Creepy Award,” remarks a sarcastic voice as a cup of hot tea is placed in front of him. “I would tell you to stop working on that puzzle and to just SELL IT, but seeing as I’ve been saying that for six years, it’s feels pointless.”  
“Don’t start, Jounouchi.” He glares up at his blond companion.  
“Hey, I said I wasn’t.” Jounouchi leans his tall frame against the worn desk, his jeans making an odd scraping sound on the cheap plywood.

“What time is it?” he asks his friend while rubbing his eyes with one hand.  
“After six.”  
“SHIT!” He stands abruptly, knocking his chair over. It clatters to the hard floor with a heavy thump. “Where’s my jacket?”  
“Don’t bother, man. Anzu’s probably already on her way here to kick your ass. You should know better than to stand her up like that.”

As if they spoke the name of the devil, a loud pounding came at their door. “MUTO YAMI!”  
Jounouchi pats Yami on the shoulder. “Take it like a man. I’ll be at Hiroto’s if you’re still alive afterwards.”

Yami watches the blond leave via a large hole in the wall covered by a heavy tarp, AKA the backdoor, and wonders if he should follow. He cringes when the rightfully angry shouting starts again. He sighs and answers the abused front door.

“I waited over two hours!”  
“I’m sorry, Anzu, I really am. I just-”  
“Lost track of time because of that stupid puzzle! You’re obsessed with that thing!”  
“I am not!” Yami turns sharply and sits on the broken and lumpy couch that occupies the living room area.  
“Oh really?” Anzu closes the door and stands in front of him with her hands on her shapely hips. “Then why have you missed eight dates in as many weeks?”  
“Uh...”  
“What’s your most damning evidence against you for the police?”  
“Um...that is...”  
“And why did you almost miss the last three gang meetings?”  
“You see...”  
“Because of that puzzle! Why do I bother with you? You seem like a great guy and you’re a god in bed, but you’re really a dork waiting to get caught and killed over some stupid item!” She sighs. “I care for you, Yami. I really do. But I can’t keep taking second place to a puzzle.”

Yami stands and puts his hands on her shoulders. “Anzu, don’t. I want to keep trying.”  
“No. Obviously we’re not meant to be romantically involved. Let’s...just be friends.” Her shoulders slump, her blue eyes stare at a worn patch on the arm of the couch.  
His hands slide up to cup her cheeks, brown hair tickling his fingers. “Anzu...”  
“Just friends, Yami.” She steps away. “Since you’re busy, I’m going to the arcade with some of the others. Join us anytime.” She leaves.

He falls back onto the couch with a sigh. “Dammit...”

He looks out the window that’s half covered in duct tape to keep it together. The sun is starting to set and is painting the world with shades of orange and pink. “Only beautiful thing in this damn world.” He huffs and gets to his feet. “Shit, why am I sitting here working on a puzzle when I could be doing something important? I’m Yugi-Ou! I should be playing games to make money and gain power!”

Yami marches back to the table and sweeps the puzzle into its box, and then he slips that into a bag and ties it to his person. One can’t leave gold just hanging around.  
He locks the door behind him, more as a habit to delay anyone who might come through it than for security, and heads for the arcade. His long stride quickly catches him up with his now ex-girlfriend. “Anzu! I’ll go with you!” His heart skips a little when she smiles at him.  
“All right.”

 

When they arrive, their friends Otogi Ryuuji and Nozaka Miho are waiting for them. However, Miho is chewing her lip and Ryuuji is consistently twirling a lock of long black hair. Worry habits. Yami and Anzu frown at the sight.

“Otogi, what has happened?” Yami stops a smile from gracing his lips at the other man’s startled expression.  
“Hey, Yami. It’s Kage, he’s really late.”  
“And?”  
“He said something about a ‘package’ before coming over,” chirps in Miho.  
“How late is he?” asks Anzu.  
“An hour.” Ryuuji’s reply sends up red flags.

A package for their friend could mean anything: drugs, alcohol, jewels, antiques, or even just something from his father. But even if a package comes unexpected...he’s never so late.  
And THAT is the cause for concern.

“Did he say where he was picking it up?” Yami curses when both teens shake their heads.  
“You don’t think he’s been...detained, do you?” Anzu asks hesitantly. All of them shudder at the word.  
Some would consider a quick death preferable to being detained by the police. They will do –anything– to get a ‘confession’. It doesn’t matter if they know you did it or not, only that they get a scapegoat to blame. One could argue that the police are more corrupt than the politicians.

“No, he’s too quick for that.” Yami’s sure tone calms them. “However, it doesn’t rule out that they’re not chasing him right now. But depending on his package, almost anyone could be after him. He has several enemies.”  
“He just insists on making them,” sighs Miho as she pushes her purple hair back over her shoulder. “He’s going to get killed one of these days.”  
“Yeah,” agrees Ryuuji, with a grin. “But he’s gonna go down in flames and leave a good-looking corpse.” A red box is suddenly thrust into his hands from the entrance of the arcade.  
“Quit talking about my corpse and run!”

It’s Bakura Kage, spiky white hair disheveled and pale skin flushed from much running. His blue-and-white striped shirt has sweat patches. He pushes a red box into Yami’s hands as well, keeping a third in his own. “Run! The cops are after me!” They scatter at his words, the girls hide in the crowd and each boy runs in a different direction.

 

Yami thanks the Gods that he was granted long legs but then curses, wondering what the hell is inside the package that the police would chase Bakura for an hour. “Nothing normal...that’s for sure.” Distant yelling and several footsteps catch his attention. “Couldn’t have been a normal brown package...nooooo, had to be festive red and easy to spot a fucking mile away.”

A small hand snatches his arm while he’s running by an alley and yanks him in. A young boy with a mane of black, spiky hair holds a finger up to his lips. “Shh, hide over here!”  
Yami ducks inside of a crate that is quickly covered with some broken boards. He hears someone run into the alley.

“Ka-Kaiba-san!” The officer sounds flustered.  
“What do you want?” the young boy asks in his family’s signature icy tone.  
“Did someone run by here? Around sixteen with big hair?”  
“He jumped the fence and kept going. Better hurry if you wanna catch up.”

After some cursing, more running steps, then a stretch of silence, Yami pushes the boards off. “Thanks, Mokuba.” He climbs out and brushes his leathers off.  
“No prob,” he replies, casually wiping a handgun off with a cloth. “Just don’t tell niisama.” He laughs and winks mischievously.  
“I won’t.” Yami grins then looks puzzled. “What are you doing here though?”  
“Just thought I’d hang around with the gang. Niisama doesn’t want us in this area, so of course here we are. Speaking of them...” He puts the weapon back in its holster and pulls out his cell phone. “Weevil, Rex, how goes it?”  
“No luck here.”  
“Not here either.”  
“Damn. Alright, get back to HQ.” He flips it closed and puts it away.

Yami raises a brow. “Looking for something?”  
“Kinda. It doesn’t concern you. I’ll see you around, Yami.” The boy leaves the alley with a cheeky smile and a wave.  
“What are you up to...?”

~*~

Building 32, a small studio at the far-end corner of Block 4, has always been empty. That’s what the fifty-something-year-old woman down the street told them when they were children. Empty and abandoned like she was.  
From all the mirrors, Anzu figured it was an at-home dance studio. She was the one who insisted it was the perfect hangout for their group. After some effort of fixing the place up, it didn’t turn out half bad.

Yami breathes in relief once he’s inside one of the safest places he knows of. The girls, Otogi, Bakura, and even Jounouchi and Honda are already present and resting on the various chairs, beanbags, and other sitting arrangements. Yami flops down onto a legless loveseat and drops the troublesome package on the floor with the other two. “I thought you two were going to hang out at Honda’s?”  
“Oh, we were,” answers Jounouchi. “But Hiroto said that Ribbon said that Otogi said that they were going to the arcade. Thought we’d drop by, and well.” The blond shrugs.

Honda Hiroto, a brunet with his hair done up in a fin, yawns loudly and stretches long arms. “So what trouble did you bring this time, Touzoku?”  
Bakura snorts and shifts on the beanbag he’s taken over. “Hell if I know. They’re from my old man so I have no fucking idea why the police would chase me for them. He never sends me anything good.”  
“Must have been good this time,” chimes Miho. “Hurry up and open them.”  
The pale teen huffs and reaches for the first, tearing the colorful lid off. “What the hell?” He pulls out a giant gold ring.  
“Dude!” Honda’s exclamation pretty much sums up everybody’s reaction. “I get to open the next one!” Without waiting for permission, he grabs a second box and opens it. “Huh...” He pulls out five gold cone-shaped items.  
Otogi, not to be left out, grabs the final box, taking the time to open it properly. “Just some triangles and a little ring, and this note.” He hands the letter to him.

[Kage,  
I have recently acquired an extremely valuable relic. Please look after it for me until I can get it set up to have its burden taken off you.]

Bakura growls and crumbles the paper in a tight fist before reading the rest. “Stupid bastard always hasta drag me into his shit!”  
“Well?” Anzu prods impatiently.  
“Just another one of his stupid artifacts he dug up somewhere. Gotta keep it a while.”  
“How come he didn’t just sell it to a bigwig like Kaiba or Crawford like always?” questions Jounouchi.  
“How the hell should I know?” snaps Bakura.

Yami shakes his head and stands up. “Stuff it in a paper bag and stash it somewhere. I’m going home. Being chased by the cops is enough excitement for an afternoon.”  
“All those games are turning you into a couch potato, Yugi-Ou,” sneers Bakura. Yami glares at him.  
“Better than being caught and made into the jail’s new bitch, Touzoku-Ou,” he calmly snaps back. Bakura stands with his hands curling into fists.  
Otogi quickly get between them. “Boys, no fighting amongst ourselves. The only reason any of us have gotten this far without submitting was by sticking together.”

They back down and retake their seats. The reminder, as unpleasant as it was, is a splash of cold water in their faces. Unless they somehow manage to get taken under the wing of some hotshot, the System will find someway to force them to conform. Brainwashing isn’t unheard of. The mark below Otogi’s left eye is a stark reminder of that.

Otogi remains standing, casually playing with his d6 earring in an old habit when contemplating something important. “Anyway, to relax and play some games wasn’t the only reason I wanted some of us to get together today. It’s just nice we’re all here now.”  
“What is it?” Though Yami meant it as a question, it came out sounding more like a command. The dice-boy just rolls his Jade eyes a bit.  
“Some of the lower gangs are pulling in together, forming alliances.”

“That’s insane,” exclaims Honda. “If they’re found out, the bigwigs will stomp them flat!”  
“But if they aren’t,” starts Anzu, “and with the right leader...”  
“The lower regions will finally have a voice!” finishes Miho with an excited bounce.

“You brought this up why?” Bakura snatches the gold items and dumps them into an inconspicuous box while talking. “Planning to be Alpha male?”  
“Not me, and certainly not you, Kage.” He smirks at the glare. “Not even Yami, truth be told.”  
Even though the thought didn’t even cross his mind, Yami can’t help but feel a little miffed. “Who do you have in mind?”  
“Our very own Jounouchi Katsuya.”  
“Say what?!” bellows the blond.

“I think those dice games are going to yer head, Otogi,” comments Honda.  
“I’m being serious. He’s charismatic, easy on the eyes, has a good voice, he’s no pushover, and most importantly, he’s easy to trust. With the rest of us by his side, we can’t lose!”

~*~*~*~

Click.  
Click.

Yami sighs, though not because of the puzzle this time. Otogi’s words continue to swim around in his head, repeating his argument. “Still sounds too optimistic.”  
“What does?” Jounouchi asks from where he’s lounging on the couch. He stopped trying to get comfortable long ago and is just trying to sleep.  
“Otogi’s plan. Even if we do manage to unite the lower regions with you at the front, it’s going to be an uphill war. Ones like Kaiba and Crawford will still hold the most power.”  
“I think any place that wants me for a leader should be burned.”  
Yami laughs. “Don’t count yourself out so quickly, my friend.”  
“You’re insane if you agree with dice-boy. I mean, you’re a way better choice.” The blond sits up and ruffles his hair with one hand; absently noting it’s getting too long. “You have that tone that just makes people want to listen to you, ya know?”  
“Your self-esteem sucks, Jounouchi.”  
“See? Is that something you want in a leader?” he asks with a cheeky grin.  
Yami grins as well and rolls his eyes, but he lets his friend win the battle for now.

Jounouchi yawns and slips off the couch. “I’m getting us a new sofa tomorrow. I can’t even sleep on this thing anymore.”  
“I told you to just use my bed. Not like I care if someone else is in it.”  
“You say that now because I haven’t rolled over and knocked yer skinny butt out of said bed yet.”  
“Get in the bed, Jounouchi.”  
“Right. See ya in the morning.” The blond grabs his pillow and shuffles to the bedroom.

Click.  
Click.  
Click.

“...That’s it...! I get it now! After I put this one in I have to give it a half turn then this one has to go in too...”

For the first time in the eight years he has been working on the puzzle, everything begins to come together in a flurry of motion. He fits and readjusts the golden pieces, slowly working his way towards his long sought goal. His eyes burn with excitement; his mouth is pulled into a grin that nearly swallows his face. He can feel his heart pounding harder with every new part that clicks into place.

“I have it. I finally have it.”

With a flourish, he snaps in the final piece. The Eye.  
Crimson eyes widen at the sudden light emitting from the finished puzzle. It engulfs him, leaving a burning sensation on his forehead. But instead of feeling frightened, all he feels is calm...security. He can’t remember a time he’s felt so safe.

Warmth, like arms, wraps around him from behind in a ghostly hug. A soft voice like a dream whispers in his ear.

“Thank you, my champion.”

Then everything goes dark.  
When he opens his eyes again, it’s morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Has the sunlight always been this bright?

He isn’t sure what or how, but something is different. Yami doesn’t remember a time when his dreary world seemed so...bright. It can’t be because of the puzzle...right?

“There you are.” Jounouchi walks over to where Yami is standing next to the apartment building. “Shit! You finished it?!”  
“Last night.” Yami holds the puzzle up, the morning light making the gold surface sparkle.  
“And you have it out in the open? Hide it!” Jounouchi pulls off his jacket and plops it over the puzzle, hiding it from view. Yami rolls his eyes and pulls the jacket off.  
“It’s fine. I have a good feeling about it.”  
“But-”  
“It’s fine, Jounouchi. Trust me.”  
“...From anyone else, I would say hell no. You know that, right?” Yami smiles.  
“I know. Do you have a short chain?”  
“Yeah. Why?”  
“Get it for me.”  
“Okaaaay...” The blond scratches his head but fetches the chain for his companion. “Here. The combo’s three-two-four-nine.”

Yami looks the chain over. It’s of good make and obviously new. “Where’d you get it?”  
“Some jerk ran his bike over my stuff.”  
“So you stole the bike, sold it, and kept the chain?” Jounouchi grins.  
“In a nutshell.”  
“His misfortune is my good fortune.” He threads the chain through the loop on the bottom of the pyramid and locks it before slipping the overgrown necklace around his neck. Jounouchi whistles.  
“Got you some bling-bling. Stylin’!” He pokes a finger at the stylized eye on the face of the pyramid. “Kinda freaky though.”  
“I like it.”

“You know,” Jounouchi says while rubbing his chin, “this reminds me of a lesson I slept through in history class.”  
“It’s called the Eye of Horus. It’s Egyptian.”  
“Oh yeah! North and South Egypt, right?” Yami chuckles.  
“That’s Upper and Lower Egypt, Jounouchi. My grandfather was an archeologist before he disappeared, so I know a bit about it.” He stretches, his back popping loudly. “Let’s get some breakfast.”  
“We should be layin’ low, Yami. Those guys might still be looking around.”  
“Don’t worry.” Yami feels another smile stretch across his lips, confidence filling his being. “We’ll be just fine.”

~*~*~*~  
A Different Side of Darkness  
Part 2  
~*~*~*~

There wasn’t a city left standing in Japan after Kami no Ikari, the Wrath of God. A 10.0 earthquake hit the mainland without warning, tearing everything apart. The quake resulted in fires from busted appliances and gas lines, tsunamis the size of mountains came crashing down on everyone’s heads. Whole buildings were swept away. Then Mount Fuji erupted.

The world was amazed there were survivors.  
The survivors were amazed there was still a world.

Initially, Japan’s allied forces helped piece everything back together. Roads were cleared and temporary housing erected where tall buildings once stood. But in the end, it was a handful of families that began shaping the ruined land’s new future. People who had money and assets overseas, connections and influence in more than just the island country. Their chosen were placed in office when it came time to reestablish a form of government, puppets on strings of darkness, dancing to their master’s tune.

Almost eighty years after Kami no Ikari, Japan cannot be recognized as the Japan it was, not with its walled-off cities and spanning slums that are the leftover ‘temporary housing’. Japan presents a smiling face to the world by showing off the uniformed children walking in straight lines to school in the new, shiny cities, by offering new inventions and delights to prove the country is healed.

Just don’t pay any mind to the man behind the Curtain. An Iron Curtain no one is allowed to cross.

~*~

Down five blocks and around the corner is a small cafeteria, or soup kitchen, whatever you want to call it. Bonz-a-Dozen is the unsavory name, and its equally unsavory owner, Ghost Kotsuzuka (a small person whose age no one is sure of and who looks really freaky), is currently standing in front of the door glaring at Yami and Jounouchi. “You’re not coming in here unless you pay off your tab,” he states stoutly, arms crossed over his thin chest. But those arms become slack enough to fall to his sides when he sees Yami’s smile. He’s never seen a smile like this before. It’s soft, it’s sincere, it’s... It makes him feel warm inside his cold body.

Yami kneels down to Ghost Kotsuzuka’s height. “I’m sorry, little Master. How much do we owe you?”  
“Uh, fifty-thousand and two-hundred yen.” Kotsuzuka stares into Yami’s eyes. Strange...is there purple inside of the red? He’s never noticed that before.  
“I have twenty-five thousand right here, I promise to give you the rest later, okay?”  
“Okay,” he finds himself agreeing.

Once inside, Jounouchi exclaims. “What did you just do to him? A Jedi Mind Trick? That was whacked!”  
“I’m not too sure to be honest,” Yami answers slowly. He muses it was almost like someone had taken over his body.  
“Well, whatever it was, it got us in! Good job, Yami!”

 

After their meager breakfast, the two head into town to find themselves some form of entertainment. They end up at the arcade they had gone to the previous day. “Hey, Yami?” Jounouchi says to get the other boy’s attention while he pops in 100yen pieces for the game. “Think any of the others will be out today?”  
“Probably the girls, but not Bakura if he still has a brain.”

“Hey, guys!” A bundle of energy pounces the two teenagers.  
“Mokuba! Hey!” Jounouchi grins and ruffles the boy’s dark spikes. “Where’ve you been?”  
“Here and there. The others aren’t around?”  
“Not today, little buddy.”

“Where’s your crew, Mokuba?” Yami asks when they’re done with their bonding moment.  
“Here and there.” Yami raises a brow at the repeat of the ambiguous response, but he chooses not to inquire further. “I’m more interested in what you guys are doing,” pipes the boy. “It’s been so boring lately!”  
“Just the usual,” is all the tri-colored teen will say as he shoots zombies in the head. “Nothing unusual at all,” he added in a drawl, passing the gun to Jounouchi to let him play the next level. Mokuba frowns and meets Yami’s eyes. The message between them is silent but clear.

The other is up to something, and they both know it.

Mokuba blinks. “How did I miss THAT?” He leans over to get a closer look at the ‘pendant’ hanging around Yami’s neck. “Wow, it’s pretty cool! Where’d you get it? It looks a little familiar for some reason.”  
“It’s something I found in my grandfather’s collection. He got it in Egypt.”  
“Ah, okay. That’s probably why the design looks familiar. Oniisama has bunches of things that are Egyptian-related.” His small finger traces the Eye on the gold surface. It’s strangely warm to his touch.

A siren sounds and the games shut off. “Aw, hell,” complains Jounouchi as he drops the gun to hang from its cable. “It’s those damn Nobuseri.”

According to history, the Nobuseri were samurai turned bandits after a great war that brought ‘peace’ to the land of Japan. They were so named for the Emperor of the era, a man who secretly controlled the bandits for his own gain.  
These Nobuseri, however, are actually specialized SWAT teams from inside the Iron Curtain, AKA the City. They randomly invade the slums in order to capture its residents for reeducation, or brainwashing, as most would call it. The System hates having a rouge factor like the slums. The Nobuseri are just the first step in stamping them out.

“Just stick with me, guys.” Mokuba makes sure the two teens follow him out of the arcade, right pass the men in black uniforms. One glance at the boy and the Nobuseri ignore them. “It comes in handy knowing a Kaiba, huh?”  
“You could say that again, little buddy!” Jounouchi grins and ruffles Mokuba’s spikes, making the kid laugh.

Behind them, Yami can hear people quickly hiding themselves from the uniformed men. The city is riddled with hidden cubby holes and sewer entrances. The Nobuseri’s call makes him laugh. “Please do not be alarmed! We are here for your benefit! Come with us peacefully and no harm will come to you!”  
“I doubt Otogi would agree. Do they really believe the dribble they’re spouting?”  
“Not a word,” Mokuba confirms. “But that’s the System for you.”

The Nobuseri are swarming everywhere in the sector, forcing Jounouchi and Yami to stick close to Mokuba like puppies on a leash. “There are more than usual,” Yami comments in a low voice.  
“Yeah,” agrees Jounouchi.  
“I wonder if something’s going down? I’ll call niisama about it.” Mokuba pulls out his cell phone and hits his speed dial. “Hey, oniisama, you know anything about with the Nobuseri raid today? Not a clue, huh? No, nothing like that. Okay, thanks anyway. I’ll be home for dinner, bye.” He slips his phone back into its holster. “Sorry, guys. Niisama doesn’t know either.”  
“We kinda guessed that,” Jounouchi snickers.

Things didn’t stay a laughing matter for long. Not when they can see and hear the poor souls trapped inside the vans, crying for help and mercy.

“Not cool,” Jounouchi says in a low voice. “I’d like to show those Nobuseri bastards a thing or two.”  
“There will come a time for that, but it isn’t now.” Yami holds firm to the blonde’s shoulder to keep him from doing anything rash.

“I have to head home, guys,” interrupts Mokuba. “I’ll see you another time.” The boy waves to the pair and heads towards the Curtain Gate.  
“Don’t get lost in there!” Jounouchi yells as a joke. Mokuba laughs.  
“I won’t! I’ll visit again when I get the chance!”

Yami kept his eyes on the boy until he disappeared around a corner.

“What do you think he’s up to?” Jounouchi asks once he’s sure the boy is gone.  
“I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. It’s unusual for him to be here so often. Kaiba or not, the City Council can’t approve.”  
“Yeah.” The blond yawns and stretches. “I’m getting bored. I’m gonna track down Honda and hang out for a while. You comin’?”  
“No, I have some things to do.”  
“Alright. We’ll be in the usual places if you change your mind.”

Yami heads deeper into the heart of the slums. He wants to check out Otogi’s story, to see how much merit it has. Even if it will be an uphill war...to join the lower regions will be an accomplishment similar to the original uniting of China.  
His first stop will be a bar. Information and alcohol tend to go hand-in-hand.

“Hey, pretty boy,” grinds out a rough voice from shadows ahead. Yami holds back an annoyed groan. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, you little shit!” The man makes to grab Yami by the collar, but the teenager evades him with a smooth step.  
“You have no business with me.” Yami voice can freeze fire right now.  
“Yeah, I do, punk. You have to pay a toll to come through here.”

Yami narrows his eyes. Just then, the feeling from that morning returns. It’s like someone is taking control of his body, but it doesn’t come across as intrusive at all. His lips pull into a small smile. “Would you like to play a game with me?” Is that his voice? He sounds like a child, much too pure and naïve to ever possibly be him.

The man laughs. It’s a loud, snorting sound like a choking pig. “A game, eh? Oh, I’ll play with you alright, kid. Get over here. I might even let you off easy.” Yami feels his smile become wider.  
“Thank you for accepting.”

Only now does the man realize there is a strange chill in the air. The world is darkening into a purple black all around them, twisting and swirling like the insides of a living organism. “What is this?!”  
“You said you wanted to play a game.”

Then Yami’s vision blacks out and a door slams in his face. “What?!” He bangs his fists against the slab of wood. “What the hell?! What is this?!” There’s no answer except for an echo. Yami figures there must be a hallway behind the door.  
He stops pounding away after several minutes. “Dammit, what is this?” He looks around and is shocked by what he sees.

It’s a familiar bedroom. Not the one he shares with Jounouchi in the abandoned apartment building, but the one he had when his parents and grandfather were still alive, if you replaced the windows with mirrors. They had lived far from the Curtain, so the neighborhood had been mostly made up of farmers and fishermen in hand-built houses.

Yami runs his hands over the sleeping mat made of grass and feathers. He recognizes the hand-carved activity desk and bookshelves, the two trunks that had held all his possessions, and the various knick-knacks lying about that grandpa had gotten him from his trips.

“How is this possible? I don’t understand.” He spins around but can’t see a way out except for the door that won’t open. Then he sees an image in the mirrors.  
It’s him, but not. The person in the mirror is beautiful where he’s handsome, and though he also has his multi-colored spikes, the person lacks the bolts of lightning in the bangs. And his eyes... Yami has never seen anyone with violet eyes before. They’re like polished amethyst.

His look-alike is facing against the greasy punk, smiling like they’re only out for a walk on a good day. “Hey, you!” Yami shouts. “Give me back my body!” But the picture blanks out and he loses any sense of the passing time.

Then there’s a ‘SNAP!’ and he’s back in his body.

Yami is disoriented for a moment, the world spinning like he has stood up too fast. Crimson eyes open when a low whimper catches his attention.  
Before him is the man, huddled into a trembling ball in a puddle of his own piss. “What happened to you...?” The man screams at his voice.  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I repent!”

The teen’s hands fist. What the hell happened while he wasn’t in control of his body? He doesn’t mind giving scum what they deserve, but he sure as hell wants to know what it was!

There’s the sound of footsteps, then two more men show up. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” shouts one of them. From their looks they’re probably friends of the pitiful, quivering heap at Yami’s feet. But death must be showing in his blood-red eyes because the men back up like he’s holding a gun to them. “Whoa, whoa, we’re cool! We saw nothin’, man!”  
“Good.” Yami stalks right past them, his coat billowing behind him from a sudden wind. He runs a hand through his golden bangs, his fingers curling into his scalp from frustration. “What the hell is going on?”

**Author's Note:**

> Names –  
> In case of any confusion, who we normally call Yami no Bakura is named Bakura Kage. He’s called Touzoku-Ou on the streets.  
> Yami no Yugi is named Muto Yami and is called Yugi-Ou.  
> Nozaka Miho is nicknamed Ribbon (-chan).  
> Pegasus J. Crawford = Maximillion Pegasus
> 
> Address References –  
> Japan’s streets do not have names. There, a house number refers to a block, not to a street. Actually, unlike in western cultures, most streets don't even have a name, so you couldn't use them to give a direction. An address in Tokyo follows a hierarchical scheme, from the block up to the ward.  
> Inside the block, the houses are numbered according to when they were built, not to where they are located in the block. House number #32 will probably not stand by house number #33 or #34. You may have to turn around the whole block before you find it.
> 
> [Want to stay updated on my art and stories?](http://dawneastpoint.deviantart.com/journal/Check-Here-for-my-Updates-638603365)  
> It'll be two steps because I'm not allowed to mention my personal blog on here.


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